


Slosh

by Jory0994



Series: Prompt fills 2019 [24]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jory0994/pseuds/Jory0994
Summary: Prompt 26 fill forFFxivWrite2019FFxiv 30 Day Writing ChallengeSEPTEMBER 1st - 30th, 2019Or, Ifrit was not the first Primal the Warrior of Light met.





	Slosh

** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh_ ** _ . _

_ One foot in front of the other Hemlock,  _ she thought to herself, shivering at the chill wind off the sea as she slogged through the wet, sandy mud.  _ One foot in front of the other is the only way to get somewhere.  _ Her grandmother’s words rang in her head, sending a sharp pain through her heart as she thought them.    
  
** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._ **

Her damp clothes were not helping the chill she felt, the sea-soaked skirt and shirt still dripping from when she dragged herself up on the beach. She was too dazed to take them off, heart sick and reeling as the overwhelming memory of Leviathan arching out of the sea washed over her like the tide.   
  
** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._ **   
  
_ What happened?  _ Hemlock wondered, despairing. She and her Grandmother had been out searching for reagents, along with several other townsfolk from Limsa.  _ There were...Shagain? But why, they never have anything to do with land dwellers. _ She shoved the thoughts away, catching sight of the road, finally.

** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._ **

Everything was so quiet, the wildlife not returning yet after the storm surge Leviathan had thrown against the shore. It was probably a good thing, she wasn’t up to fighting a piece of paper right now, much less any of the more aggressive creatures around here.   
She was avoiding her thoughts again. Hemlock’s hand tightened around the hilt of the broken dagger in her hand.    
  
** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._ **

  
_ Shnik-thunk.  _ The dagger slid home in the Drowned that wore her Grandmother’s face, the wet, clammy hands that had gripped her arms going slack as it fell.   
_ Snap. _   
The dagger, the birthday gift from her Grandfather before his death earlier that year, snapped at the hilt as she stumbled back.   
“Nonono.” She mumbled, trying to go back for it. Warm hands, nothing like the Drowned’s, grabbed her and pulled her back.   
“Move it, kid!” The Yellowjacket Lieutenant barked at her, his face as pale as a Duskwight could go.    
“They’re going to finish the summoning-” He cut off at the soundless roar that blooms over them.   
“....I’m a Conjurer, Lieutenant. And it’s too late to run.” She rasped, shoulders firming.   
His face showed how little he liked the fact that she was right.   
  
** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._ ** ** _   
_ ** ** _   
_ ** Hemlock pushed away the memory of the too-brave Lieutenant out of her mind. She couldn’t do more for him than she had, he would not be Drowned and she would raise a glass for him and Remember him. She was the only one to survive Leviathan, though that wasn’t what was bothering he the most.   
  
_ Why aren’t I dead or Tempered? _ Was the last thought to cross her mind as she finally fell, the distant cries of shock from the caravan driver she had collapsed in front of following her down…   
  
**** _Slosh-slosh. Slosh-slosh._


End file.
